Seven Ghosts
by SynesthesiaAddict
Summary: When Izaya is given a death sentence, how will the dynamic with Shizuo change? WARNING: sick Izaya, awkward but caring Shizuo and a sensitive topic. Now rated M
1. Part One: Underneath it All

_A/N: This one is very fluffy, and slightly OOC, much to my dismay. But it seems to be popular and I wanted to give it a shot. Didn't turn out too bad, but you guys can be the judge of that. You may recognize the first chapter from the Deviantart meme I posted a while back. I liked what I started, so I ran with it. R/R, I love your feedback! :)_

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part One**

**Chapter One**

**Underneath it All**

{[Heiwajima Shizuo]}

Its unnerving. Scary even. I've never seen Izaya like this, and it just hasn't computed until now how much danger he actually is of giving up completely. He stands there with his flickblade pointed at me despite the weakness he'd just shown me, an expression on his face that screams that he just wants to die already, and he's throwing caution to the wind threatening me like this, even though we're standing in _his_ bedroom.

Let me back up.

I was not expecting to actually hit the bastard.

It was a typical encounter, vending machines and road signs airborne and aimed at Izaya's lithe figure. But today, one try and the garbage can knocked him right across the street and into an alleyway. A little taken aback, I approached my nemesis, bewildered at the limp lump of person weakly sitting up and leaning against the wall and hanging his head.

"What the fuck, pest? That was too easy."

"Ah, go on, Shizu-chan. Kill me."

"ExCUSE me?"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Izaya asked with a weak smile. Where… where was he bleeding from? "To end me?"

"You're acting weird, what's with you?" I demanded, suspicion clouding my common sense. Something was wrong...

"I'm such a liar. I have a throne where I lie from, you know that? My desk is my empire, where I foresee all the hurt in Tokyo."

"What's new? I already knew you get your sick kicks from fucking with other people."

Izaya looked at his hand and smiled at the bloodstained fur on the cuff of his parka. "Never fucked with myself before."

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"No. No trick," he said softly. He stood and stumbled into my arms, and I was too shocked to do anything but catch him awkwardly. Izaya breathed into my chest and kind of smiled again. I could feel his heart fluttering against mine. It was a strange sensation. "I'm going to let you down today, Shizuo. Would it hurt you to watch me die by my own hands?"

"_What?"_ I demanded. This had to be some kind of sick joke of his...

"I knew it. You have this complex where you think you're the only one allowed to kill me. I want to deny you that pleasure. I want to make you hurt…"

"What! You idiot, that's the most ridiculous thing you could ever - !"

"Oh, there are lots of other reasons, don't get your panties in a bunch thinking this was all for you." Izaya's legs got weak and now he was completely leaning his weight against me. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Hey, if we could do things differently… how would this have ended?"

"What are you…?" I suddenly realized that blood was dripping down Izaya's hands, and it was getting all over my black vest. "The FUCK -?"

"Ever had a _deathwish_, Shizu-chan?" Izaya asked hoarsely, still wearing a delirious smile.

"Did you just slash your wrists? What the fuck-!"

Izaya forced out a laugh as I ripped his coat off and found the accusation true. The cuts were deep and soaking his skin and coat with blood – I hadn't noticed until it had reached the fur of the parka because the cloth had been black. "I'm a million miles away…" he murmured dazedly as I shook him.

"_WHY,_ IDIOT?" I shouted, suddenly very concerned for his well being all of the sudden. Despite all the times I had aimed to kill, desiring to bash his head into a bloody pulp... for some reason I couldn't picture it ending like this. Not like this...

"Lots of reasons… but let's just say for now, in this moment… I wanted to fuck with you." Izaya pulled me close. He was cold and clammy, hands sticky from congealed blood. _"It's fun."_

I pulled my cell phone out for help as the thorn in my side lost consciousness.

It was surreal almost. I had never thought in a million years that _I_ would be the one to rush that goddamned pest to the hospital. The EMTs were shocked, and so were the nurses. They wouldn't let me in the room alone with him, as if I were some kind of monster who would end him while barely conscious in a hospital bed.

After hours of stabilization , the social worker pulled me aside as Izaya slipped off into a drug induced slumber. I could have left at any point... but I didn't. I don't know why, I just couldn't leave him like this. She was clearly new to Ikebukuro, as I don't think she quite grasped that I wished Izaya dead with all of my heart.

But not like this...

"So are you any relation to Orihara-san?" she asked, taking notes on her clipboard.

"Cousin," I lied. As far as I knew, the pest had no family to speak of besides those annoying sisters of his. Who knew how much contact he had with them anymore? I seemed to deal with those twin abominations more than he did. And … I needed to know just what the hell was going on.

"Do you know him well?"

"Well I …" Hm. Good question. Despite my hatred for him … I couldn't say I really knew Izaya. I knew he was twisted and manipulative and had dirty dealings... "Sort of?" I finally replied awkwardly.

"He passed our questionnaire for mental illness with flying colors, and considering this is clearly a suicide attempt, it raises a few red flags," she continued.

"He's too smart for his own good," I muttered, pulling a cigarette out without thinking.

"You can't smoke in here."

I paused and put it back. "My bad. No, he'll tell you exactly what you want to hear, I'll tell you that much."

A nurse handed her Izaya's chart and she raised her eyebrows. "Ah. Well he's been declining treatment or counseling for the past month, so frankly I'm not surprised."

"Treatment?" I asked, a little confused. Treatment for what?

"Orihara-san has no next of kin listed, would you like to sign for him since he is not in the correct state of mind to make decisions for himself?"

I stared at her, a feeling of dread overcoming me. If I were in his position, I would abhor and even fear the thought of Izaya having control over any medical decisions of mine should I have been unconscious for any reason. It did give me a sick little twist of pleasure thinking that I would have that kind of power over him, but I'm not a monster. Full of that uncensored rage sometimes, but not heartless.

And if I didn't sign it, just who would? Mairu? Kururi?

I signed the papers and gave her a stern look. "So what's wrong with him? Besides the fact that he's batshit?"

"Orihara-san was diagnosed with brain cancer six weeks ago," the worker told me emotionlessly.


	2. Part One: Even Deeper

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part One**

**Chapter Two**

**Even Deeper**

{[Heiwajima Shizuo]}

"He has refused treatment and counseling, like I said. This may affect how his pain prescriptions are dealt with. Unless you agree to take responsibility for them..."

The words were almost like a physical blow.

Izaya the pest.

Izaya the invincible.

Izaya the unscathable.

Izaya has cancer.

Izaya is going to die.

And I'm not going to be the one to kill him.

I snapped back to the present moment, where the Izaya's on duty social worker was discussing with the doctor some medical jargon I couldn't quite follow. "I'll take responsibility," I told them suddenly.

_What am I doing?_

"Good, good," the ER doctor told me. "We recommend a follow-up appointment with his specialist, though he hasn't attended anything scheduled beyond the initial evaluation and consultation according to his records. We can't release him until we know he'll be supervised. Will you be able to care for him?"

"Uhh..." _That_ was asking a bit much.

"Shizu-chan..."

I turned to the weak voice behind the curtain and parted it, seeing an awake Izaya. He'd heard every word and had done nothing to stop me from taking hold of his medical decisions. "Izaya-kun..."

"Get me out of here," he asked quietly.

"Why should I?" I snorted. I shouldn't be the one doing this. I shouldn't be here at all...

He closed his eyes and shrugged. "Fine."

"Tch." I signed the release. "Come on pest, let's go."

Izaya was quiet as we walked out of the hospital and as soon as we were off grounds I lit up a cigarette, fully intending to just leave him. Let him die by his own hands, I decided. I could give a crap anymore.

To my surprise, he continued to follow me. My guard was up. It would be just like him to try and kill me in this moment, despite the fact that I had just saved his ass from weeks of isolation in the mental ward. "I'm immensely curious, Shizu-chan. Why'd you help me out back there?"

"I dunno," I told him coldly. "Maybe I decided that you could go off yourself for all I care."

"How considerate of you," he chuckled.

"You're a fucking idiot."

"Ne~?"

"You've got fucking brain cancer. It explains a few things in my opinion, but …"

"Oh, don't get all patronizing on me," he snorted. "You want to see me dead just as bad as I do."

"No, that's not ..." I sighed, struggling for words. "I don't even know why I bothered. Go do your thing I guess. Just know I'm not a totally heartless monster."

"Strange words from _you_," he snickered.

"Take this seriously, would you? You're gonna die, moron!"

"Don't you think I don't realize that, Shizu-chan." He stopped walking and I did too, a little baffled at the quiet tone in his voice with me. He kicked a rock on the sidewalk and shrugged. "Thanks I guess. I'd rather go out on my own terms. Fucking with the medical community is fun and all, but it's more fun from the outside."

"Just go throw yourself off of a building or something. Leave me out of it."

"Will do! Catch you later, Shizu-chan!" he called cheerfully, freerunning over some bulldozers engaged in some street construction.

Good. Saves me the trouble.


	3. Part One: Not the Way You Wanted it To

_A/N: wow, was not expecting such an awesome reaction! you guys rock, you know that? much love and reviews are still appreciated! FANGASM GO!_**  
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**Seven Ghosts**

**Part One**

**Chapter Three**

**It Didn't Turn Out the Way You Wanted it To**

[{Heiwajima Shizuo]}

Guilt is a terrible thing. I guess that's why I was headed out for Shinjuku much later that evening.

_I'm the idiot here. Ugh, stupid pest. _

I'm not sure why, but I had to see him before he went and committed suicide. I guess what I really wanted was for things not to change. And change had just been thrust into our laps. How could I not have noticed? I had been hitting him a lot more than usual, and it hadn't even occurred to me that there might have been a reason other than him just fucking with me.

I don't know what I was going to say, or maybe I just wanted to strangle him to death with my own hands before he had the pleasure of "going out on his own terms." At least that's what I'd like to believe. I can't deny that I was suddenly very guilt-ridden for trying to murder someone who had a death sentence. Even if it served him right.

Even if that someone was Izaya.

I approached his condominium complex and stopped for a cigarette. I would at least respect the landlord's blatant request to not smoke plastered on the sliding glass door out front. To my surprise, about halfway through my nicotine fix, a tall woman with long black hair and a shrewd look in her eyes came off of the elevator and made her way out the automatic doors. Maybe this was my chance to avoid a breaking and entering.

Izaya's secretary, Yagiri Namie.

"Yagiri-san."

She stopped and narrowed her eyes at me, well aware of what I was here to do. "Do refrain from catching me in the crossfire of whatever you would throw at Izaya-san's head this evening," she sighed coldly, almost rolling her eyes.

I held up a fifty. "Let me in."

A small smile played at her lips. "Better double that and promise you won't kill him outright. Keep in mind, the man signs my paychecks."

"Deal."

I'd never seen the inside of Izaya's condo before. It never occurred to me just how much money dealing in information can bring in. Namie let me in with her card and quickly left. Whether she knew of Izaya's condition or not escaped me, and she was so damn intimidating that I really couldn't ask.

I didn't even take off my shoes as I walked in. "Iiiiiizaaaayaaaaa-kuuuun..." I called out, tensing for an attack any second.

No one replied.

"Izaya...?" I asked, glancing down the hallway to the right of the front lounge area. "Oh. Great."

He wasn't here.

I frowned. Maybe he'd already gone and killed himself? No, if that were true he wouldn't have left his computers on. Suicide victims usually turn everything off, put everything away or make as if they weren't coming back. The state of Izaya's desk clearly said otherwise. I was surprised at the pair of reading glasses just shoved to the side of the keyboard – I'd never known Izaya to wear glasses. Ever.

I guess they would have been in their case if he didn't plan on coming back. At least that's what I hoped.

I made my way down the hallway, wondering if I would find him passed out from all the heavy-hitter painkillers he'd been prescribed. I'd just handed him the scripts that I'd been given on his behalf, hoping he'd choke on them. Vicodin, Perkaset and Morphine, all in the double digits. My first thought was that he'd been playing off how much pain he may or may not have been in to get high, but then I saw his medicine cabinet.

Nothing but prescription bottles, most of them full still. Shinra's name was on most of them. He may not have been a registered surgeon, but he was still legally able to do _some_ things, and prescribe is one of them. Shinra had been loading him up, and he hadn't been taking them. It probably meant the bastard would rather suffer despite the shady doctor's insistence that he control his pain. There were several syringes and bottles full of clear liquid labeled "Interferon," which put a twist in my stomach.

He'd been declining treatment in order to have Shinra handle it. No records of this would be able to be dug up and used against him, except for today. And I'm sure he'd find away to banish those from existence as well.

This wasn't a lie.

The reality hit home just as I heard the front door open and Izaya's cheerful voice on his cellphone. I jumped into the hall linen closet for who knows what reason as Izaya set a bag from a convenience store down and threw himself on the couch.

"Of course, Shiki-san! … No, don't be ridiculous, I can handle any job you might ask of me. … Lately? Just been caught up with – … no, I – … *sigh* then find someone else for this one. I'm busy tonight anyway, I just got in. … I'm glad you understand. Thank you again, Shiki-san you sly bastard. … Yup. See ya!"

Izaya pressed a button to end the call, then threw the phone across the room, the battery clattering out and the little pokemon dangly decoration that read "M+K" coming loose and also clattering to the floor. Izaya simply lay there for a moment, head buried in the couch with his hands in his hair. It took me a minute to realize that he was clenching his fists so hard that he was making himself bleed.

It was … disturbing.

After a minute he at last stood, taking off his parka and hanging it up, actually missing the hook on the first try. "Fuck..." he cursed under his breath and he suddenly made a bolt for the bathroom, hand along the wall to steady his stumbling run into the bathroom, of which I had a much clearer view.

He emptied the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl, then continued to heave though nothing was coming up anymore. This continued for a good ten minutes until he dragged himself to the sink and shakily opened a container of pills, downing four at once with the tap water.

I couldn't take anymore.

"I thought you were fucking with me," I told him, emerging from my hiding spot.

Izaya jumped and nearly fell into the shower stall as he whipped around, flickblade in hand with a ferociously and hideously angry look about him. I'd never seen him angry before, not to the extent that he would lose his composure anyway. "MOTHERFUCK!" he cursed, catching his balance. He then narrowed his eyes. "Shizu-chan. How long have you been here?"

"Long enough."

"I don't want your pity, you know. Either kill me while I'm down or get the hell out. This is humiliating enough by myself, thank you."

I scratched my head. "Look, I –"

"Are you deaf? I said get the fuck out of my condo!"

"I told you I'm not heartless," I reminded him.

Izaya lunged forward with his blade, but for reasons that were now becoming clear, I moved aside a little too easily and backed into his bedroom. He stumbled in after me, flickblade shaking in his hands. He slashed again, but I barely even had to move this time.

It started to dawn on me.

I held up three fingers. "Izaya, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"What does it matter?" he demanded.

"Come on, pest, just answer the question."

Izaya wiped his mouth, continuing to keep me at blade-point. "Two."

I put my hand down and stared. "You can't see."

"I can _see_, it's just difficult!" Izaya snapped. "Goddammit, Shizu-chan, can't you just butt out! Wouldn't it be the best thing that's ever happened to you? Just let me die!" His voice dropped to a trembling whisper and hurt shot across his face. "Is that so much to ask?"

And here is where we came in at the beginning of this messed up situation. He's shaking, sweating and clearly he just wants to lay down and give up, but for some reason I just don't want to let him. Izaya covers his mouth as his body heaves, the blade clattering to the floor. He tries to curse and whips around to the half-bath in his room and trips to the floor, nearly smashing his head on the sink.

Without even thinking, I help him up and to the toilet, where he shudders and attempts to purge again, though there is clearly nothing left. I hold his head back as if he were hung over and I was the idiot friend who was there to make the hangover go away. I want to pretend that's the case; anything but this. I am overcome with pity, though I'm sure he'd hate me for it. I'm sure he does.

"I … HATE … you ..." he manages through gags and spits. The only thing that comes out are those four pills he'd gulped down and the water he'd chugged with them. Clearly they wouldn't be doing them any good. "You … you're doing this … to degrade me... You win, alright? … Just … just go away!"

"You're not giving up," I tell him firmly. "You're going to do as Shinra asks and get better. Until I can throw a vending machine at you and you can dodge it without a second glance, then this is what you get from me, understand? Then we can go back to killing each other, but you're NOT giving up."

So Izaya hangs his head in his hands on his bathroom floor and chokes out sobs of anguish, his dignity and pride gone in a puff of smoke.


	4. Part One:TheDaytheWholeWorldWentAway

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part One**

**Chapter Four**

**The Day the Whole World Went Away**

[{Orihara Izaya]}

This is not how I pictured my confession to Shizu-chan to go.

It's true. I've crushed on the bastard for years, since I first met him in high school. I guess I just didn't know how to express it in any other way but violence. Besides, he started it. The attempts on his life (though rarely initiated on my part) were just a thrilling, flirtatious dance. It was his own dumb gorilla self that didn't get the picture. If I really hated him, I wouldn't give him the time of day, let alone the full brunt of my former speed and strength in a dangerous game of shoot-to-kill.

And here I was, sobbing like a child in his arms, furious, terrified and resentful. Though content with the fact that it's him and not anyone else that gets to see this side of me.

Let me back up.

Two months ago, it had just gotten too much. The migraines, the constant cramp in my stomach, the degradation of my vision to the point of having the purchase prescription reading glasses and more seriously the black-outs and the twitching...

I'd lost somewhere around twenty pounds in two and a half weeks. I've always been a bit on the underweight side, but this was getting ridiculous. I just couldn't keep anything down anymore. I looked at the scale on a whim one morning once I noticed I could count every single one of my ribs and became alarmed.

So I called up my good old buddy Shinra. Surely a change in diet or more sleep could clear this up with maybe an antibiotic or something. A brief vacation might have been in order. That's what was on my mind while I was talking to him – whether I should go harass Saki and her boyfriend Kida or go abroad, maybe state-side to get away for a few weeks or something.

"Are you listening, Orihara-kun?" Shinra was saying, frowning.

"No, not really," I told him honestly, sipping my tea nonchalantly. "So what, a few weeks off, more sleep? Ooh, maybe a gluten-free diet kick or something, right?"

"This is serious stuff, Izaya," Shinra told me quietly as he shined a light into my left eye. I waved him off.

"Serious stuff doesn't happen to Orihara Izaya," I scoffed. Suddenly my wrist jerked and the tea got dumped on the carpet. _Goddammit... _"Sorry about that..."

"Tell me more about your migraines."

"Ugh. Debilitating, I can't get out of bed," I complained. "I have to swipe your narcotics to make them go away."

"I thought I'd been a bit short lately..." _Glare._

_Ignore._ "My vision gets all gray and grainy, light and sound are just murder. With the narcotics, they go away after a few hours and if I'm lucky, by the end of the day I can kick around town practicing my Parkour." I shrugged. "If I'm not so lucky, I'm stuck in bed for a few days. I've had migraines before, but the vision thing... I got a little worried."

"And the fact that you're swimming in your own clothes?"

"Oh yeah, that. Lost a bit of weight I guess too."

"A bit? How much?"

"Twenty-three pounds."

"Are you serious? In how long of a span?"

"Hmmmm about two weeks." Once I was in danger of dipping under a mere 100lbs so fast, I figured Shinra had to have _some_ kind of answer for me.

"Why are you not taking this seriously?" was said answer, testing my reflexes by rapping on my knees. He frowned. "Less reflex on the left side..."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"In conjunction with all your other symptoms... yes, I'll be honest. This is quite disturbing."

Now Shinra had me worried. He seemed a bit less frantic now that it was becoming apparent that I was taking him seriously now. Even Celty was looking tense as her shadow writhed about in worry. "So what's wrong with me? Shizu-chan hit me a few too many times to the skull?"

Shinra held out his arms to the side of my head. "Tell me when you can see my fingers." He started to pull them forward.

"Now."

He and Celty exchanged a look that filled me with a sense of dread. I looked to the side and saw that Shinra's fingers were well past my ears and practically in front of me.

I'd lost nearly all of my peripheral vision. It certainly explained why it was harder to catch Shizu-chan in the act of chucking heavy things at me. But even I'd watched enough medical shows to know that this was bad. Very, very bad. The internet was a wonderful thing most of the time, but to have all this useless knowledge stored away that led me to the correct conclusion long before any real testing came back to confirm it was actually pretty scary.

"I've got a tumor," I said blankly, too in shock to really let it sink in yet.

Shinra sighed. "That's what it seems like. I couldn't say for sure without a CT scan."

"No. No doctors in hospitals. Nothing like that," I told him firmly. I. HATE. Hospitals.

"Why not? You NEED this, Izaya-kun!"

"Paper trail." It wasn't a lie. Not really.

"If I call in a favor, will you do it?" Shinra pleaded.

As if I would confess to anyone that I was afraid of anything. "Sure, so long as it's not on record in any way," I agreed.

And that's when they found it. I crammed three Xannax into me to find out not only did they find it, but after a slew of blood tests they said it was cancerous, possibly causing secondary matasticized tumors in other places. Surgery was too risky – it was too close to the medulla, or that place in the brain that controls all the involuntary functions. You know, the important ones like breathing and heart rate.

Pills. Tons of them. Steroids, anticonvulsants and narcotics for the most part. Shinra killed the paper trail, as promised, but apparently not good enough. Somehow my diagnosis remained on record long enough for Shizu-chan to find out in the ER, even though Shinra was handling my day-to-day management of this death sentence.

Yes. This was a death sentence.

Considering that I could just stop breathing or my heart could just decide to kaput any second, I decided to live life as if this were my last breath or heartbeat. It was fun for a while, especially so high I couldn't count strait from all these crazy painkillers to battle the chemotherapy making me miserable. Four weeks of that and I was ready to just say "fuck it."

At least I wasn't losing my hair or anything (myth busted: not all cancer patients lose their hair you know, just the ones on heavy duty radiation usually).

The hatred for this thing invading my life on top of my growing resentment at myself for somehow letting this happen was starting to weigh in pretty heavy. So one day I took about four days worth of those narcotics at once (because I hated taking them and had tons leftover), slashed my wrists and went to go play with Shizu-chan one last time.

Dumbass saved my life.

So there I was, sobbing into his chest, at least grateful that I might get the chance to tell him the reason for all this insanity over the past decade before I die.

I fucking hate being weak.

The comedown is awful, simply awful. I can't even feel my limbs as Shizu-chan picks me up and takes me to my bed, laying me down gingerly with a frown. "You're burning up," he tells me.

"S-side effect," I manage through the sudden chills that wrack my body. "C-cold..."

Shizu-chan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, why am I doing this?" he mutters. "You need a cool shower or something. I don't dare cram more pills down your throat."

"N-no way. To f-fucking cold," I manage, wrapping the comforter over myself. "I want a h-_hot_ shower."

He takes it away and I make a sound of complaint, but too weak to fight him. But goddammit I'm going to try. He's turning on the water already and I'm trying to slink out the room, but I can barely walk all the sudden. Without the narcotics, I'm a wet noodle, and I just hacked them up so they haven't given me any leverage at all. He grabs me and I struggle. I bite and kick and make sounds of annoyance as he strips me and practically throws me into the shower.

I yelp and try to get out but he's blocking the way. "Sh-shizu-chaaan! It's FUCKING C-COLD!"

"It's barely luke-warm, you ass. You made me bleed, I hope your grateful you little shit," he scolds as he holds his arm with a bleeding bite-mark or two on his forearm He's rolled up his sleeves, he's soaked and annoyed and almost as miserable as I am …

But he's trying to help.

I admit defeat in the matter and just sit in the corner of the shower, shivering as the water cascades upon me, pounding on my aching head and running down my bony and shaking shoulders in a way that would have been comforting three months ago.

"Why are you d-doing this f-for me?" I stammer.

"You don't have anyone else to," he says quietly with his back turned, giving me a semblance of privacy in my naked and pathetic state.

"So you pity me."

"Yes."

"Well. Th-that sucks."

Silence.

"Can I g-get out now?"

"Give it a few minutes. You need to cool down."

"It's j-just a side-effect, Shizu-ch-chan."

"Don't care. Shut up and take it."

I manage to chuckle at him. "You're cute when y-you're all caring."

"Whatever."

More silence.

"Izaya, I have a question."

"Sh-shoot."

"Do you have … a bucket list or something?"

I laugh the best I can. "Why do you a-ask?"

"Just wondering. I don't know how serious this is, but I can assume you think you're going to die."

"It's inev-vitable, Shizu-chan. Inoperable. I think Sh-shinra is trying to make me miserable in a p-pathetic attempt to try and s-save me."

"Do you blame him?"

I think on this. "N-no. Why is beyond me, but he's tr-rying. Can I p-please get out now? I'm f-freezing here..."

"Yeah." Shizuo turns off the water and helps me to my feet. He towels me off, helps me pull on a shirt and some boxers, then helps me to bed. After a moment returns with a glass of water and a few painkillers. I take them, getting ready to dash to the toilet in case they don't stay down again. He places my mop bucket next to the bed. "Don't worry about it," he says, knowing why I would try to get in a position to push myself beyond my means to save my sheets.

"Ne, Shizu-chan. You asked me if I had a bucket list."

"You do then?"

"Only one thing is on it, you know."

"What's that?"

I grab him and pull him close, never in a million years able to do this if I didn't think I was going to be dead by morning. "I want to love someone. In an emotional sense that is. I want to know what it's like, you know? But … I'm so hated. I don't think those dying wish cancer organizations could give me that."

Shizuo shifts next to me and looks away. I touch his face and make him look at me, then lay a soft kiss on his lips. "I won't ask you to love me back," I say quietly. "Just … just let me have this for a little while, even if it's with you."

"Izaya..."

"Please?"

"You … I ..."

"I'll be dead by morning, I just feel it. Give me this. It's all I'll ever ask of you."

Shizu-chan sighs and lets me in, returning the kiss in a gentle sort of manner.

As my heart pounds, all I can think of is that I love this gruff, overly strong bastard, and all I want is for him to hold me until my last breath.


	5. Part One: Just Like You Imagined

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part One**

**Chapter Five**

**Just Like You Imagined**

[{Heiwajima Shizuo]}

He wasn't dead by morning like he predicted. He was a wreck, but he wasn't dead. I've never felt so helpless in my life. There was nothing I could do to make Izaya better, or even _feel_ better in the slightest. I'm not an idiot – it was the narcotics coursing through his system making able enough to get up and walk around, let alone function. I can't breathe it hurts so much to be the bystander, knowing that this pain is nothing in comparison to his.

Funny, considering yesterday I hated his very being and wished this very pain upon him. Heh. Guess it's the epitome of "be careful what you wish for."

He is drinking me in, running his lips along every inch of skin he can find, and _goddammit_ it sets me on fire. Why, oh why does _this_ have to be his dying wish? And why do I like it so much? I guess it wouldn't be exactly fair to fake it on his behalf, so I really hope he knows how genuine the reciprocity is. I moan his name while his teeth rake across my neck and my fingers run over his feverish skin, barely holding his thin and sickly frame together at this point.

"I wish I could hate you right now..." I breathe into his neck as his teeth find my earlobe. _"Fuck...!"_ I hiss with a shudder.

"You don't?" He sounds surprised.

"I can't."

"Oh?"

"Lust … I can't hate you when I want you this bad..."

"Hmmm maybe I should turn Shizu-chan on like this all the time..." Izaya teases coyly and unbuttons my shirt with shaking hands. "He won't hate me so much..."

"Can we be serious for a minute?" I ask, trying to gather my head though it's swimming in a puddle of unresponsive _want_.

"Only if I can keep touching you..." Izaya whispers, letting his fingers explore my chest and stomach. It's not even particularly erotic the way he's doing it, but good lord it's arousing.

"Do you not want me to hate you?"

"Of course I don't!" he said dubiously with a sort of smile that said 'I'm stating the obvious.' "I never wanted you to hate me to this extent. I always knew you were stupid, but wonderfully unpredictable, which have made these past ten years so much fun. Hurtful, exciting fun."

I stopped him. "Wait, this whole time you were – ?"

"Flirting, yes. Shizu-chan is so thick it's cute." He forced out a weak laugh, as if he couldn't believe he could admit it. I join him, not too sure what else to say in the face of my stupidity. I can't even take offense to the insult it's so true, so I hang my head. "Hey, what is it?"

"I'm an idiot."

"Yes. Yes you are."

"If you weren't dying I'd rape you, you twisted little shit," I informed him. "You're too weak to handle what I would do to you for all this..."

"It's reciprocated? Hurray!" Izaya laughed, jumping into my lap and bouncing, then stopping to hold his head. "Ugh... dammit narcotics! Kick in! I want a good trip before I'm dead. Shizu-chan, go get me one of those bottles..."

"No. You're not going to die, I refuse." He thinks I'm kidding with that dubious look on his face. "I won't let you."

"Not even if it just gets to be too much?"

That's a mood-killer if there was any. I sigh and bury my face in his chest, all too aware that I could feel his ribs through his shirt and how it seems to hang off of him like it's three sizes too big. It probably is at this point. "Stop. Just stop, okay? You're saying this because you think you're number's up. How long have you felt like this?"

"Since the moment I met you."

"All this time... wasted..."

"It was fun at the very least," he says quietly, running those magic fingers through my hair. "Ugh..."

"You okay?"

"I need to lay down … light-headed … like a black out is coming on..." he mumbles, slipping backwards. He would have landed as dead weight if I didn't catch him when he starts to convulse to my utter horror.

So much for the heated moment.

The seizure only lasts a few moments, but Izaya is dazed for a good ten minutes and completely incomprehensible. He is only half-awake, so he's only making marginal coherency, really. I can barely make out what he's saying until he starts to make a little more sense when he comes around a little.

"Water..." he begs hoarsely, to which I oblige. It takes him a moment to compose himself. "What happened?"

"You had a seizure."

Izaya suddenly laughs. "Is that what's been happening? Haha, this wouldn't be the first time then. It explains a few things."

"You're not going to die tonight," I told him firmly. He looks at me with wide eyes, as if it were the first time he actually believed me saying so. "I'll make sure of it."

So he drifts off at last and makes it until morning.

What a weird night.

It was a lot to mull over, I'll say that much. Every provoking gesture he'd ever done to me was his way of _flirting_. It was obvious now that I looked back on it, but none the less very, very fucked up. Then again, so was Izaya.

And all this time I've been hating him.

I don't know if I could love him. Not this soon, not the way he wants me to. But I can try, and at least go through some motions to keep him in this world. I'm still pretty unnerved at this side of him, and how utterly out of character it is to see him like this, despite the fact that he's trying to laugh it off like he does everything else.

Watching him sleep is addicting.

I can't take my eyes off of him, carefully listening to his shallow breath and faint heart beat. I doze off for a little bit, but for the most part I can't sleep, scared he'll slip away while I'm not looking. I text Tom to let him know I was taking a personal day or two and think for a long time, reevaluating the relationship between us. What was. What is. What will be.

It's all so very big and life-changing crap. I hate it. I would have much preferred to keep chucking traffic signs at his head. That stupid, precious head that always has a witty quip and is completely untouchable, scarred deeply by this affliction that was forcing a world of change upon him. Upon me.

It isn't fair, really.

So I can't help but to wonder... what happens now?


	6. Part One: Fragile

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part One**

**Chapter Six**

**Fragile**

{[Orihara Izaya]}

Shizu-chan doesn't love me.

I don't doubt that someday, he could learn what with all the tender way he was acting, but as we know my time is limited. So I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that it could evolve to that point in a timely manner. He'll probably realize it on my deathbed or some cheesy soap opera crap.

I wake up in Shizuo's arms, and if I didn't have to pee so bad I wouldn't have moved for anything. Alas, my bladder is not taking no for an answer, so I get up and stop the room from spinning for a moment, then go and use the facilities. Then I forceddown an ungodly amount of pills and am loading up that evil little syringe when he knocked.

"Yeah." Permission granted. I suppose I might be gotting off on the fact that I'm making him hurt a bit, watching this. Watching me suffer. But that's habit. It's all out now, so I suppose I don't have to actively provoke a reaction from him anymore. Anger was just the easiest thing in the world to squeeze out of him, but now it was becoming guilt and worry.

I delight in wondering what unpredictable manners in which he will react to this awful curse. Even though I feel a little bad that it is these emotions and not something a bit more positive, but it's still something, right?

Shizuo walks in and quickly looks away as I try to find a bruise-free area in my thigh to inject the misery-inducing cocktail of drugs. "It's not so bad, you know. My stamina is waning of course, it's a given with this crap, but with enough morphine, it's livable."

"How were you leaping around like this was nothing?" he asks.

"You know the answer to that," I chuckle, sucking in air through my teeth as I inject. "Narcotics. Lots of them. And anti-nausea pills, that too. Ahh … that stings..."

"I have to use the bathroom," he mumbles awkwardly.

I pop three Vicodin and two Zofran House style and wink, then give him his privacy to get dressed, feeling heavy and worn with even my slight weight lately. I've come to identify the pills by how they feel and look instead of reading the labels, which is difficult without the glasses. Shinra would have had a heart attack if he knew I'm doing it this way, but I'm familiar with them enough not to make a mistake.

Because a mistake may well kill me. As if this tumor won't.

I sit in the lounge and wait for the room to stop spinning and the nausea to pass, pretending like I did every day that this is nothing. I ache to jump up to the railing on the stairs and just freerun to the loft area for the hell of it, but Parkuor is just too taxing sometimes, especially first thing in the morning.

I mourned my former existence.

I'm strong, I know it. I am beyond humans and their frailty, but I know damn well that some day – and someday soon – that this will become too much and I will be bed-ridden. I loathe that day, so I try to get out every day; I try to keep working … I try so hard.

The day I spend all day in bed is the day I'll really die, I mean it.

That is … if Shizu-chan lets me.

He emerges and picks up my phone, still in pieces, and puts it back together, turning it on for me. "I took the day off," he tells me, handing the device back to me.

"Why?" I ask.

"The nurse told me at the ER that you shouldn't be alone for a bit. I _did_ sign for you, you know..."

"Aw, Shizu-chan, how sweet," I mock, though I hope he notices that I mean it. He may be a moron, but he does have a sharp intuition sometimes. "Oh, I missed a call from Shinra-chan..."

"Is it important?" Shizuo asks, seeming worried. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time to watch him squirm like this. It was a complete 180 the way he was all concerned for me all of the sudden. Unexpected. Terrible. Wonderful.

"Eh, he calls every few days to make sure I'm still kicking," I said with a shrug, listening to the voicemail requesting that I call him back. I dial his number and wait two rings, then he picks up. I don't give him a chance to scold me for not calling him sooner. "Good morning, Shinra-chan! How is the good doctor today?"

"Orihara-kun, how are you feeling?"

"Like shit, as always." There is irony in how the tone of my voice doesn't match the statement in the slightest. We go through the normal rundown, going over any worsening or lightening of symptoms, then he sighs. "Ne~, something wrong, Shinra-chan?"

"I'll be frank with you, Izaya. I want to do the surgery; I'm willing to risk it. The question is, are you?"

There is a stunned silence between us. Surgery had never been an option – no surgeon in their right mind would risk their professional career over such a hopeless cause. I was told it was just too close to the vital bits of my brain.

Shinra of course, has no professionalism to save.

"Izaya?"

"Sorry, did I hear you right, Shinra? You would try for me?"

"It's a lot to consider, so I won't rush your decision. I won't sugar coat the risks either – there is still a significant chance that the surgery would kill you. But you are my friend, and damn it all if my opinion is biased – I want to try and save you, but only if you're willing to save yourself. The recovery would be long and painful, but I watched my mother die of cancer you know, so I know your at least three times as miserable as you put off. Consider this: do you want to linger about in utter patheticness, knowing damn well those drugs are only delaying the inevitable, or do you want to go all or nothing? Get better or die?"

I couldn't say anything for a few moments. I almost forget he is on the other end.

"Izaya-kun?"

"I'll think on it," I finally tell him. "I gotta go." _Beep._

"What is it?" Shizuo asks, his brow furrowed in an endearing manner. He dreads the worst, and I don't blame him. Hell, I'm terrified that he'll never get to throw another vending machine at me again, and I'm sure he feels the same.

"Shinra... wants to do the surgery."

"I thought it was inoperable."

"Technically it is. But he doesn't have a license to risk. Just a life. No big."

"No, stop it. Don't laugh this off, Izaya. This isn't a light decision."

"Thank you for reminding me," I mutter. What a dumbass sometimes. Then I grin. "What do you think I should do, ne, Shizu-chan?"

"You're asking _me?"_ He seems surprised that I'm asking him. I am too, but I don't let that show.

"Why not? You're my medical proxy now, aren't you?"

"Yeah... but well... I ..."

He's adorable when he stutters, I decide. "I'm a ticking time bomb, you know. I could drop dead any second. Waiting for the chemotherapy to work might be more of a risk for death than that. And I fucking hate this. I can't see. I can't eat. A plethora of other functions are affected, most less desirable to mention than others. This existence is pitiful, really. I used to think nothing could bring me down, and you did too. I'd almost rather die on the table knowing I had a chance at the old me than to continue on like this. On the other hand, I fear death more than anything. It's the only thing that really motivated me to do anything."

I glance at the spot behind my bookshelf, where Celty's head remains hidden. To accept it from Namie had given me a thrilling chance to try and wake it up. Until a few months ago, I was still trying.

Now...

"I'm an atheist at heart, though the thought of an afterlife is intriguing. But if nothing awaits me on the other side, I embrace it. Even if it were Hell waiting for me... I think I'd take that to this. Knowing that, what is your honest opinion, Shizuo? Really."

He sits across from me and leans into himself, thinking hard. I would pay any amount to know what was rattling around in his brain, making the next statement more understandable at the very least.

"Do it."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Call me selfish. I can't take care of you like this. I have a job. A life. And suddenly I want you _in_ that life. But not like this. If you do this, I will take medical leave and make sure you're okay for a while. But I'm not going to give up what I have just to see you wither away."

"And after I am either dead or fully recovered?"

"Dammit, I don't want to think about that!"

"Well suck it up, you're a big boy. These are adult decisions. Everything is going to change now and you know it, even if I sit back and do nothing. Even if you snap my neck in my sleep. Even if I make a full recovery. Nothing will ever be the same again, but we have say over _how_ that change unfolds. I won't say you can make the decision for me – though technically you can – but I will weigh in your sentiment, seeing as you're so determined to entwine your life into mine out of guilt."

Shizuo has nothing to say to that. Though it was plastered all over his face that the word "guilt" had struck a chord.

"So I'm going to do it. But not because of you, even though you would be a wonderful reason to try, if you would let me."

"Let you?" Shizuo repeated, surprised.

"Yes. I would like you to be my reason, but I'm not sure you would accept that kind of responsibility. If you fake this, then you can't let me know until I'm dead. I'd rather not ever know if you don't mean it. But if you can act the part, you can be my reason for living. Does that sound cheesy?"

Shizuo is staring at me with an expression I cannot decipher. It's so strange not to see his face all twisted up in rage in my presence that I haven't pinned his body language, facial expressions or lie cues yet. So I don't know if he's telling the truth when he says what he does next.

"Yes. Cheesy. But I won't act like you haven't had a profound effect on me, for better or worse. I will be your reason, if you'll be mine."

"You... _your_ reason?" I ask, a little taken aback.

"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since you confessed to me, and I already feel like I'm drowning at the thought of losing you." Shizuo sighs. "This is insanity. I can't explain it. I don't want to. But being around you is like a gasp of air to my drowning self. No, that doesn't make sense... I guess what I'm trying to say is … I'll be your reason, but know that you'll take a piece of me with you if you go, so don't give up so easily, understand?"

I chew on this quietly. "Okay," I finally say, then pick up my phone.

_**To: Kishitani Shinra 9:02am**_

_Schedule the surgery._

_((I 3 HUMANS!))_

**-SEND-**


	7. Part One: Pilgrimage

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part One**

**Chapter Seven**

**Pilgrimage**

[{Heiwajima Shizuo]}

One week. Then Izaya goes under the knife and may well never come back out. Even if he survives, there could still be permanent damage – brain surgery is tricky like that I guess. So I make him put together a bucket list. At least at first, I try.

"I don't want to," he tells me stubbornly.

"Shinra says you have a 68% chance of dying right there on the table, and if you survive only a 24% chance of coming out of it unscathed," I point out. "Don't you want to try things you'll never get the chance to do again?"

"But it's so cliché," he sighs, turning on the TV to an American cartoon. "And then I survive and learn an important life lesson about living each moment to the fullest, right? LAAAAME."

"I don't want to gloom and doom you, but death is kind of a big deal."

"_I'm gonna sing the doom song now!"_ the television chirped in English. _"Doom-doom-doomdoom-doom-doom-doomydoomy-DOOOOM...!" _Izaya laughs.

I turn the TV off. "If you don't make one, I'm going to make one for you, and it will be full of shit _I_ wanna do. I get a feeling our tastes are dramatically different, so make with the bucket list."

Izaya frowns. "Do we have to call it that?"

"Well what do you want to call it?"

"Hmmmmm..." He thinks. "Ghosts."

"Ugh. Morbid."

"You asked."

"Well fine," I agree. "Make your _Ghosts_ then."

"Gimme a bit to think on it," he says, rising to sit at his desk and putting his glasses on. "I need to do some research."

"Good, I need to get something to eat. Your fridge and cupboards have nothing but condiments and oatmeal."

"Comes up easier," he tells me distantly, not even thinking about how disgusting those word make me feel about his new-found frailty.

I light up a cigarette once off grounds with a sigh of relief. At last, nicotine. I'm in my own little world at the corner store, grabbing something from the local deli and a few groceries along with a box of hair bleach for touch ups. I have a feeling I'm going to be in Shinjuku a lot for the next few weeks, may as well be prepared.

I must smoke almost half of my remaining pack knowing I couldn't smoke in Izaya's loft, and I return to a very quiet apartment, the only noise a faint snare beat from Izaya's headphones, still lost on the internet. I put the bags down and find a list on the fridge.

_**Seven Ghosts**_

_**In order of least to most important**_

_Freerun Sunshine 60_

_Trend #peoplelove on Twitter_

_Get a Zen blessing_

_Publish a novel_

_Be in love_

_Fuck the crap out of Shizu-chan_

_Talk to my dad_

The list is a little confusing and to be honest, surprising. "Can I ask about some of these?" Izaya doesn't reply. I've forgotten he was listening to his headphones, duh. "HEY!" I shout, waving my arms. He still doesn't notice. Maybe its because of his poor vision as of late. I walk over and unplug the jack from his tower and not realizing he had a secondary output, I am blasted by Gackt and flinch.

Startled, Izaya at last looks up and cranks the volume back down. "Whoa. Warn me."

"I tried."

"You know I probably can't eat any of that," he tells me, gesturing to the bags still by the refrigerator.

"More for me than you, but if you can handle it, I can cook sometime or whatever." I hold up the paper. "Can I ask about some of these?"

"Depends on which ones. I guess so, since you'll be helping me."

I snort. "How presumptuous, but yeah, I'll help you. The first one shouldn't be too hard to do –"

"I wanna do it while they're mostly closed," Izaya says, putting his glasses back in their case and leaning back in his chair, slowly spinning.

"That's trespassing," I tell him. "And unsafe in your condition."

"I know. The law breaking is part of the thrill, and I fully intend to push myself beyond my means, so since you're helping, you can drag my ass back here and throw me on some surface to recover on."

I roll my eyes. "Your Ghosts . If you want to scale a damn skyscraper, that's all you. We can do that one tonight if you want."

"Sure."

"And... you want to start a trend on Twitter?" I ask dubiously.

"Without mentioning that I'm dying," Izaya adds, looking at the ceiling while he spins. His arm twitches briefly and an annoyed look crosses his placid, thoughtful face. "Fuck..."

I decide to ignore it, so he's less uncomfortable. "Well I'm part of the Dollars, what if I post on the forums to try and get them to trend it?"

Izaya laughs suddenly. "Shizu-chan, despite your idiocy, you're a genius! I know the founder, you know..."

"You know the leader?" I demand.

"Of course! He would be happy to order his charity pawns around for a 'good cause,'" Izaya chuckles.

"Figures you would. Who is it?"

"That's a high price bit of information, Shizu-chan, I don't think you can afford it," Izaya says slyly, looking at me through slits of dark eyes accompanied by a matching smile. The sun hits his face just right and they seem to gleam red. Sometimes I'm convinced the man is the Devil Himself, if not in some sort of soul debt to the entity. Other times...

Izaya puts his hand to his forehead with a frown. "Ugh. Make this quick, Shizu-chan, I feel a migraine coming on, and it won't be pretty."

"Get a Zen blessing … I thought you were an atheist."

"I am."

I am so confused. "So... why bother getting blessed?"

"A study of people and the metaphysical qualities of intention," he replies, keeping his eyes locked on the ceiling, slowing his spin to a slight rock.

"I'll pretend I know what that means and just say I know a guy who knows a guy."

"Kasuka's Buddhist, isn't he?"

"...yeah, how did you...?"

"People Magazine, duh. I'm good, but not omnipotent," Izaya laughs. His mirth is starting to fade, and quickly, so I decide to continue.

"We can get out there this weekend if you want," I offer.

"Sounds like a date."

"Oh god, don't say that." I can tell he wants to keep laughing at me, but it's very clear at this point that he's starting to suffer a good amount of pain. "Hmph. Moving on. I didn't know you wrote a novel."

Izaya holds up a flash drive. "All the knowledge in my pretty little head about humans , crammed into 150,000 words and 16 chapters. It's edited, I've just been too chicken to call up a publisher."

"That's a matter of a few phone calls, but a week is not a big time frame to get that done..." I sigh.

"Eh. I don't care if I'm dead, so long as its out there."

"Well you told me about the love thing..." I say awkwardly, scratching my head.

He gives me a strange look that I can only associate vaguely with affection and smiles. "Yeah. I did."

"And uh … hm." I feel my face get a little warm at his next request. "I uh … don't understand this one."

Izaya actually does laugh, though it is strained. "How much more obvious do I need to be, Shizu-chan? I. Want to. Have sex. With you. I'm pretty sure it would have happened eventually anyway, but I figured with it out in the open you can get the 'mull it over' out of the way so there won't be any interruptions."

"Wh... well what if I don't want to?" I sound pretty lame as my ears get downright hot. That bastard was doing this on purpose!

"Given the adorable shade of red you're turning, I think I would have to disagree... heh heh..."

"Shut up." I'm actually pretty surprised it was so far up on his list. It was right under... "Wait, how long has it been since you've talked to your dad?"

Izaya stopped rocking the chair and instantly lost his smile. "About twelve years."

I nod. "Ah. It's one of those you can but you don't want to things."

I wasn't really expecting his glare to shoot daggers I could practically feel. "Pretend to love me, Shizuo, but don't you dare pretend you know me. This is something … I do _not_ need your help with. I will do that on my own time and my own terms. These seven ghosts have been haunting me most of my life, and I would like to put them to rest, with or without you."

I put my hands up in surrender. Clearly a touchy subject with him, and considering how insane he's always been, I'm not surprised at all he has daddy issues. "Okay," is all I say, then I put the list back up on the fridge and start to put groceries away.

"Shizu-chan."

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

I pause and smile to myself, glad he can't see it. Glad he can't see how much a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Another has replaced it, but it stems from … something nice. "You're welcome, Izaya."


	8. Part Two: One Ghost

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part Two**

**Chapter Eight**

**One Ghost**

[{Orihara Izaya]}

The breeze is nice, so I know it will whip around wildly up that high as I look upon the massive structure that is Sunshine 60. Shizuo is nervous, as he lights his third cigarette in a row. I am evaluating the surface, debating which maneuvers would be best in order to scale the enormous skyscraper. My guess is a series of Dynos and Muscle Ups followed by a Kong Vault to reach the roof. Getting down will involve a lot of Cat Grabs, Thiefs and Rolls.

Six months ago, this would have been nothing. But I feel my body dread the exertion, despite how light and loose I feel from the barrage of narcotics in my system. I tried to take enough to keep me at optimum functionality without needing to pass out from sheer knock-out factor. But I am still nervous. And yet …

"I'm excited," I tell Shizuo, approaching the wall and leaning my foot against it, eager for the thrill of Parkour once again.

"You're crazy," he replies. "If you fall, you're dead, you realize that, right?"

"Worried?" I tease.

He mutters something I think is an affirmation and takes another drag. "What am I doing here, pest?"

"You're to take me to Shinra if I fail, or drag me back to Shinjuku if I succeed. Neither of which will be pretty." I chuckle, as if my failing strength and speed, not to mention vision, is only a small obstacle to overcome. It isn't. It is massive. Unless I am looking head on to something I can barely make it out, and even then it's a little blurry. I'm hoping any handholds I find are close together so I can fucking _see_ the things. The possibility of falling to my death is becoming more real by the second.

And I'm relishing the opportunity.

"Your Ghosts," Shizuo mumbles, as if he is reminding himself that this is MY choice, MY ghost to put to rest, not his. No say over this, none whatsoever. It makes him uneasy. He crosses his arms. "You're hoping to fall, aren't you?"

"Ne~?"

"That way you won't have to face your other Ghosts."

Despite being a devilishly hansom ogre with no brains, Shizuo is remarkably intuitive. "Why yes, that is what I hope for. But I won't do it on purpose if that's what you mean. If I can overcome this, then the other Ghosts don't stand a chance!"

Shizuo doesn't believe me, but he nods. "Sure. So you're going up an over? Or up then strait back down?"

"Up and over," I decide, preforming a few stretches to make sure I'm as limber as I can be for this.

"I'll meet you on the other side, then."

"Sounds good."

I start a few yards away, then sprint up the wall, cat grabbing window ledges and fire escape ladders, muscle-upping and preforming Dynos to scale higher and higher. It is just as exhilarating as I imagined it to be, and a feeling of immense thrill and satisfaction overwhelms me. A heady laugh escapes me and I push myself harder, scaling faster and doing more dynamic leaps and climbs to challenge myself.

Then the world starts to spin.

I'm about forty stories up when I pause, suddenly winded and dizzy. I am hanging off a ledge with one hand, the rest of my body free in the air, and I breathe in slowly. The wind is whipping and a bit cold, as I had predicted. The handholds which had been instinct to find are now impossible to see – I'll have to feel them out from here on.

Good. I didn't want this to be easy. I wanted to hurt by the end of this.

Yanking myself upward, I continue, forcing my body to comply with my taxing commands. At last I Kong Vault up over to the roof and immediately vomit.

_BODY: stop it, you idiot! ME: no way! BODY: I'll make you, you bastard. ME: I'd like to see you try! BODY: here goes!_

Another few minutes of heaving and gasping for air as spots bloom in my vision and I briefly consider taking the elevator back down.

No. That's not what I came here for. I came here to push myself farther than I have ever pushed myself before, and that's what I'm going to do. These Ghosts are to be put to rest. Forever. If I can't handle the first hurdle, then I can't do any of them.

And … I really needed to speak with my father one last time.

I spit and start to sprint over the roof, pop vaults and cat straddles punctuating every movement to get around what is in my way. This is the easy part.

The city below looms out beneath me once I reach the other side. I am dizzy, and the adrenalin shock courses through to my feet and makes my heart pound even harder. My mouth is dry, my eyes are bleary with tears and my hands and feet are tingling from that beautiful chemical fear that gives me a kick every time.

I'm addicted, and I love it.

Had Shizu-chan not been below, awaiting my return, I might have just thrown myself off the top, setting my spirit to flight as my body would plunge downward and break into a heap of blood and splattered innards below. But I have Ghosts to chase away. I have Shizuo to love, even if he won't love me back. It's nice that he's pretending anyway – endearing. I can't end it today.

I reverse vault over the side and make grabs and swings on the way down. It is significantly more difficult than the way up, as my balance is all out of whack, and my feet are leading the maneuvers now, not my head or hands.

I pause and catch my breath three stories from my goal of the street below, Shizuo watching not so patiently for my safe return. "Not bad," he calls up to me.

"I … I don't feel good..." I manage, holding my chest as it tightens. So close... not here...

"Come on, I'll take you back to your loft. You're not even thirty feet away!"

"I … I need to breathe for a second," I tell him, squeezing my eyes closed to try and shoo away the dancing spots and vertigo.

"Come on, pest, just do it." He is wracked with anxiety, I can tell. He wants this over with. So I do something stupid and reach for the next platform before I'm ready.

My foot slips, and I cannot grab a hold of anything to stop my descent. My body automatically saturates me with adrenalin, but my mind is strangely serene. _So this is what it's like before you die..._ I remember thinking as gravity wraps itself around me and pulls me to the earth at a lethal speed.

I don't hit the ground.

I hit something, and it hurts, but it's not pavement. It's a pair of ridiculously strong arms, and I knock the owner of said arms to the ground. My wrist hits the sidewalk from the awkward roll and I hear a crack before pain shoots through to my shoulder in a blistering wave … but we survive.

There is a moment of silence between Shizuo and I as we lay on the sidewalk for a moment, wee-hour pedestrians giving us curious stares. There is blood spilling out onto the ground and I feel giddy. "Are you okay?" he finally breathes.

I stumble to my feet and hold my forearm, grimacing. "Um … ow."

"Sweet Jesus, Izaya!"

Shizuo is up in an instant, unphased by a little under 100lbs ramming into him from thirty feet up. I lean into him, completely inebriated on the high of pain, post-vertigo and success. "I'm fi~ine ..." I drawl, in a daze.

"Come on, the hospital isn't far from here –"

"Nuh-uh. We're going to Shinra."

"The hospital is closer."

I grab his vest with my good hand and go nose to nose with him, squinting so he knows I'm dead serious. "I'm NOT going to a hospital. We are going to Shinra for this, understand?"

Shizuo sighs, knowing he's not going to win on this one. "Fine. Come on, can you walk?"

"No, not really..."

He hefts me over his shoulder and I drift off into the land of unconsciousness, relishing the smell and feel of him beneath me in a benign manner.

My first Ghost is dead.


	9. Part Two: Two Ghosts

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part Two**

**Chapter Nine**

**Two Ghosts**

_Warning: SPOILERS_

{[Ryugamine Mikado]}

_**Kanra wants to private chat 11:32:52pm**_

**Kanra:** Hey there Tanaka, I have a request for you.

I blink, worry suddenly clenching my gut. It was never a good sign when Orihara wanted to private chat with me. His girly and joking air as Kanra in the chatroom had been strained that evening – he was typing much slower than usual and he seemed distracted.

**Tanaka Taro: **What's up?

**Kanra:** I need you to post something up on the Dollars forum, it's kind of important.

**Tanaka Taro: **Why don't you do it? You're a member too.

**Kanra: **But you're the administrator. People take you seriously. And this is such a small thing, you see. Those wonderful people you control would be happy to do it...

I cringe at the word control. Orihara has helped me many times over my first year here in Ikebukuro, and nothing he did came for free. The fact that he was asking _me_ a favor was …

**Tanaka Taro: **What's the catch?

**Kanra: **Catch? LOL. You think that lowly of meeeeee~ ne?

**Tanaka Taro: **They wouldn't take me seriously if it weren't for you, you know, keeping my identity a secret and all. Though since that whole Yellow Scarves things, there have been rumors, and it worries me. My saving grace is this obnoxiously famous sounding name. I would ask before you even tell me what your favor is that you quell the whispers if you know what I mean...

**Kanra:** Done. Do you have a Twitter?

**Tanaka Taro: **Huh? Yeah … I guess so, but I hardly tweet. I think it's kind of stupid.

**Kanra:** Would you start a trend hashtag for me? And have every Dollar out there do it too?

I frown. What in the world...?

**Tanaka Taro: **What is this about, really?

Izaya pauses. I can't tell if he's typing a long response or simply considering the question and how to answer it. The latter seems to be true, as his reply is short.

**Kanra:** It's a dying request.

I absorb that and continue typing.

**Tanaka Taro: ** From who?

**Kanra: **Someone very important to Shizu-chaaaaan ;)

**Tanaka Taro: **Sooo... you're taking your wars online then? He's not even on the forums that much you know. I didn't even know he had a Twitter. He doesn't seem the type. His account says that he's turned off mobile notifications for forum updates, how in the world are you going to get at him with this?

**Kanra:** Please don't worry about that, Mika-chan. I promise your everyday life will not be affected in the slightest. Will you do it or not?

I lean back and purse my lips, looking at the clock. It's late and there is school tomorrow, but it wouldn't take too long to follow through on the small request. And if its a dying wish of someone...

**Tanaka Taro:** Okay. What's the hashtag?

**Kanra:** #peoplelove. Follow me on Twitter as Nakura to retweet, here is the link: .com/Nakura

**Tanaka Taro: **K.

**Kanra:** Mikado-san. Thank you. This means a lot to me.

**Kanra:** Are you still there?

**Tanaka Taro:** You're the one dying, aren't you?

There is a long pause in the typing.

_**Kanra has logged out 11:49:02pm.**_

Oh wow...

**Bacula: **Still there, Tanaka? Coz you HAVE to see this YouTube video …

**Bacula:** .com/watch/the_wrong_vagina

**Setton: **Sounds vulgar

**Bacula:** It is ^_^

**Saika: **Where did Kanra go?

**Bacula:** She can go die for all I care.

**Tanaka Taro:** I think her IP ping timed out. It's late, I'm not sure she'll be back.

**Saika:** Oh. Well it is late, I think I'll head out too.

**Tanaka Taro: **Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, I need some sleep.

**Setton: **BACULA, THAT'S BEYOND VULGAR.

**Bacula: **ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL!

_**Saika has logged out 11:52:34pm**_

**Tanaka Taro: **G'night.

**Setton:** Good night, Tanaka. Bacula, we shall have words.

**Bacula: **Just be glad I didn't send you to Two-Girls-One-Cup!

**Setton: **Ugh.

_**Setton has logged out 11:53:40pm**_

_**Tanaka Taro has logged out 11:53:55pm**_

**Bacula:** Suckeeeeeers XD

_**Bacula has logged out 11:54:11pm**_

_**There is no one in the chatroom.**_

It took a few minutes to really all come together. It was entirely possible that Orihara was being facetious when claiming that he was important to Heiwajima, and the more I thought about it the more likely the scenario was. He was messing with the man, as anyone who knew Orihara even marginally well knew that "People love" or anything along the lines of declaring his love for humans was sort of his thing. Even Heiwajima.

Given his response to my inquiry, Orihara thought he was dying somehow, some way. Maybe this didn't have anything to do with Heiwajima, as he just loved to throw around that he always had the upper hand over the ex-bartender. Using the Dollars to those ends didn't surprise me, but …

I'm not sure how I felt about Orihara Izaya not being in the picture anymore.

He was a thorn in everyone's side, but an irritatingly invaluable asset to anyone who had a stake in anything in Ikebukuro. He'd helped me out a lot, and for a fraction of the price he usually charged the big guns, considering my wallet was pathetically accurate to my age and position. Sometimes even for free out of "respect."

Whatever that meant.

I logged onto Twitter, found Nakura and subscribed to him, reading over his tweets and mentions with curiosity.

**Older Tweets**

**Nakura April 22****nd**Ahhh what a lovely day in Ikebukurooooo~ wonder when the vending machines will start to rain? :)

**Heiwaranbou April 22****nd**Nakura you're dead, asshole

**Nakura April 22****nd**There they are!

**Nakura April 22****nd** Fuck it

**Nakura April 22****nd** … that was weird

**Nakura April 23****rd**Feel like crap today. Ooh, I know. Ootoru. Fatty tuna solves everything 3 #sushilove

**Nakura April 23****rd**** RT Heiwaranbou** Life just keeps getting more and more fucked up...

**Nakura April 23****rd** SUNSHINE 60 I AM IN YOU

**Nakura 16 hrs ago **Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow …

**Nakura 10 hrs ago** Ooooooh more narcotics!

**Nakura 8 hrs ago** Dullahan_Love you rock you creepy doctor you!

**Dullahan_Love 8 hrs ago** Nakura stop overdoing it, moron

**Nakura 8 hrs ago** Dullahan_Love So mean! I live to overdo life!

**Nakura 3 hrs ago** SECOND GHOST next #maybe?

**Nakura 9 mins ago** I love humans because they exceed my expectations #peoplelove

Hmmm...

**Overly_Ordinary just now** Nakura I love humans because there is good in everyone, whether they realize it or not #peoplelove

I logged onto the forums and thought out carefully what I would post.

**Admin April 24****th 2010****, 11:58:43pm**

I have a request. A good friend of mine is dying. I don't know how, but he will be gone soon, and I want to oblige one last wish of his. His love for humanity is large, if not twisted, and I know some of yours is too. I know I have faith in humanity, and I want to express that for him. He has a Twitter account, and if you would trend his hashtag, it would make him very happy. Here is the link: .com/Nakura

Tell him why he shouldn't lose faith in humanity or himself. Trend #peoplelove.

Thanks.

I turn the computer off and put my ringer on silent, knowing that there would be a massive amount of replies. There always are when I post as the Admin and not a proxy account. I lay down on my mat and stare at the ceiling for a long time, wondering what Orihara was thinking, and what I would do in his position. It would be hard not to lose hope.

I could at least do this for him. Because as strange as Orihara Izaya was, I didn't want him to die. And if he really was going to … I wanted him to experience real happiness at least once.

"Good luck, Orihara-san," I whisper into my pillow as I drift off.


	10. Part Two: Fourteen Ghosts

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part Two**

**Chapter Ten**

**Fourteen Ghosts**

_A/N: WOOOOW. Thanks for all the reviews folks, i love you all! Sorry for the delay in updating, I actually spent a week in a psyche ward! (which has produce the beginnings of another story! yay!) BTW...Welcome to rated M, cats! Thanks again for the love so far!_

{[Heiwajima Shizuo]}

"Wow."

I walk in on Izaya at his desk today, looking … strangely moved and happy. "What?" I ask, slipping off of my shoes and approaching to see what he is looking at on his screen. His Twitter account was pulled up and I raised my eyebrows. "Wow indeed..."

**Overly_Ordinary** Nakura I love humans because there is good in everyone, whether they realize it or not #peoplelove

**Skies_of_Peruvian** Nakura I love humans because they give me something to write about #peoplelove

**Fushoji4Life **Nakura I love humans because they make YOAI! #peoplelove

**Otakusan** Nakura I love humans for the anime #peoplelove

**MONTA **Nakura I love humans because … I guess I just do #peoplelove

**RuriLove** Nakura I love humans because I love Hijiribe Ruri #peoplelove

**HanejimaFangurl** Nakura I love humans because Hanejima Yuuhei is my hero! #peoplelove

**Magenta **Nakura I love humans because the world isn't as terrible as I thought #peoplelove

**xxStormCrowxx **Nakura I love humans because they are awesome #peoplelove

**Fury_Paragon** Nakura I love humans because we can evolve #peoplelove

**FLCL119** Nakura I love humans for the money haha #peoplelove

**Mean_Bob_the_Asscat** Nakura I love humans because I'm smarter than them lol #peoplelove

**FairestSOLDIER **Nakura I love humans for the RPGs :D #peoplelove

**NINchapter_Titles** Nakura I love humans because they make music #peoplelove

**Turtle_Domo **Nakura I love humans because they are always trying to improve themselves #peopellove

**Human_Sushi **Nakura R rho6oBb 4eroBe4ecKNNArR apTNKrb yAo6HbiN #peoplelove

**Baculaman** Sure I love humans, but Nakura can go die haha VERY FUNNY KANRA #peoplelove

**sinnamin** Nakura I love humans because they can love so deeply #peoplelove

**Saika** Nakura I love humans. Period. #peoplelove

**Setton_Sama** Nakura I love humans because they are so interesting #peoplelove

**Dullahan_Love** Nakura I love humans for the bodily healing factor. So fascinating! #peoplelove

…

**124 new tweets**

"It's trending," Izaya says quietly, pointing to the right of the screen. Sure enough, under "Trending Now" #peoplelove was listed third.

I can't help but to grin. "Well there you have it. Two Ghosts down, five to go."

"Well, no doubt some acquaintances have put it together. Some of them think it's a joke, others may be worried," Izaya tells me, turning away from the screen to look at me. "But I don't care what they think, I never have. Thank you."

"What did I do?" I ask. "I just made a suggestion."

"And that suggestion made this a reality. So take my gratitude you protozoan."

We exchange a strange sort of smile and I ruffle his hair, which he laughs at. "Well your welcome then."

"Has it occurred to you that this is very strange?"

"What is?"

"How you're helping me."

"Only every second of every day," I mutter, pulling out my phone and shooting off a text. I'd almost forgotten to add my own tweet, though I rarely use it. "So I called in a favor from Kasuka. He said some kind of … _Paritta_ blessing is in order."

"What did you tell him?" Izaya's voice is a little tense. He says he doesn't care about what others think, but I know this is not true. He didn't want my brother to know, and I definitely didn't want Kasuka to know exactly _who_ I was helping.

"I just told him a friend of mine is going through an ordeal, and that's what he recommended. Anyway, he gave me directions to a local shrine here in Tokyo, and said to be there by dawn tomorrow. Up for it?"

"Yeah," he replied, refreshing the page one more time and looking at all the tweets in amazement. He looked at me and smiled suspiciously, but said nothing.

**Heiwaranbou** Nakura I love humans because you're one of them.

The shrine was uneventful. I'll say it was the easiest thing to do off of Izaya's entire list. He wouldn't let me go in with him, and I don't blame him. It's supposed to be this personal divine experience, though his motives were far from spiritual.

"What's with the beads?" I ask as he pulls on his parka and we leave.

"Prayer beads, for chanting mantras and to aid in mudras," he replies with a shrug, putting the wooden beads on a red string in his pocket. "I found them … endearing."

"What, are you a Buddhist now?"

"Oh, hell no!" he laughs. "This is more a memento of the experience, not a token of my conversion!"

"Doesn't it not work if you're not Buddhist?"

"Do prayers work if you're not Christian?"

I shrug, stepping out of the serene atmosphere of the shrine and into the busy streets of Chiba. "Can I see that flash drive of yours? The one with your novel on it?"

"Ne~? Why?"

"I got an email back from a publishing agent," I said quietly, for some reason feeling that awful blush tinge my face. Why was this embarrassing? Oh, right, I'm helping out my worst enemy unprompted. "She said she wants to have a look at what you have."

Izaya blinked, as if he couldn't believe it. "You … you're really helping me, aren't you?"

"Well yeah, what did you think I was doing, sitting back and watching you die?"

"Sort of..." he admitted. "You're … just pretending."

"Are you sure?"

We stop and look at each other for a moment, right by the bus stop. His eyes draw me in, only because there is an intense emotion brewing. Some cross of curiosity, wonder and self-doubt flash in those dark eyes with that red hue when the light hit them just right. He's looking up at me with that flushed look of kicking oneself for not seeing what could have been obvious. It was his turn to blush slightly, and because I'd never seen it before, it was suddenly very hard to keep my desire under control in public. His cheeks sort of lightened to a subtle pink, almost unnoticeable, but I see it. And fuck, it turns me on for some reason.

I'm not even sure I was more than just bi-curious and he did this to me. Aggravating. Exhilarating. Exasperating. You've got to be KIDDING me, you know? He was quite obviously in lust with me, maybe even some twisted form of _love_ was in the picture, but how could I reciprocate? And why did it suddenly seem so easy?

Our lips are centimeters away and I was just leaning forward to brush them together when the bus pulls up. We sort of awkwardly remove ourselves from that melded instant of togetherness and board, in our own heads full of inquiry and confusion.

It's quiet on the way back to Shinjuku. We are too weirded out by each other to try and converse, but it's not too terribly an awkward silence. As if the lack of words between us was okay, like a mutual understanding. I couldn't help but to think of that first night I found him amidst his death sentence and the physical contact that had caught fire then. I would have pounded him right then and there if I thought he could have handled it, but now that I'd seen his Ghosts list, I'm glad I didn't.

I could pretend for him on a few of those things. Though I was wondering more and more if the motions I was going through might have had a bit more depth than I'd like to admit.

Then of course there was the issue of his next Ghost or two...

When we get back to his loft I make a bit of lunch, to which Izaya declines and dines on a sickening amount of pills instead. "I know what you're thinking," he says from the bathroom.

"Yeah?"

"Wondering when I'll try to seduce you for my next Ghost."

"...Yeah...?"

"Um... forget it. It was wrong of me to try and guilt you into that." I hear the rattle of several prescription bottles and the medicine cabinet closing. He emerges and puts a hand to his head. "I'm going to lay down for a bit. You can stay if you want, I'm just not going to be very good company."

"I don't mind," I tell him, picking at my lunch awkwardly with plastic chopsticks. "Get some rest."

He disappeared into his room and I was left alone in his lounge for a bit. I didn't want to break the calm quiet of the loft, so I didn't turn on the TV or make a real sound if I could help it. I was restless however, and took to pacing about, lost in my own little world of thought.

Izaya would not have put his desire to have me sexually on his Ghosts lists if he didn't really want it, or at least put it so high up on the list. He claimed to have put it there to guilt me into it, but I was starting to be able to tell when he was lying, especially about how he felt. Otherwise a hummingbird couldn't catch him at work.

I won't deny that I've been bi-curious for a while, but I've never found the right type of guy to experiment with. I don't know if that made me picky or just strait with an itch, but Izaya seemed just the sort of person I would actually _want_ to try things like that with. Maybe it was because I hated him for so long that it just seemed right, like if I didn't like it I could always fall back on that excuse.

I could pretend it didn't matter.

Ironic, that I was supposed to pretend that I loved him, when I was actually pretending the opposite.

How frustrating, that I was really starting to like the guy. I still wanted to throw something large and heavy at his head, but I didn't want to kill him anymore... I wanted to play his game of cat and mouse with a flirtatious zeal. It wasn't fair.

I find myself in front of Izaya's bedroom door, cracked a bit. I can see him lying there in the dark, rubbing his temples and taking another painkiller, clearly on the verge of a migraine. His braced arm lay limp beside him and I hear him sigh. "Come in," he calls to me, aware of my presence. "I can't sleep anyway."

I walk in and sit on the edge of the bed as he shifts to sit up. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's okay. Something on your mind, Shizu-chan?"

"I guess there is."

"It's that thing on my Ghosts list, isn't it?" I clear my throat uncomfortably and kind of nod. Izaya sort of smiles. "I said don't worry about it. It was kind of asinine of me t o ask you to pretend something like that."

"It wasn't wrong or asinine, it was desperate," I correct. "I'm starting to be able to read you pretty well, Izaya. To want love for once in your life isn't wrong. It's … admirable, actually."

He laughs quietly. "Nothing I've ever done in my life could be called 'admirable.' I'm twisted, Shizuo. I know that. I may mess with people's lives to better them in a sense, but I'm still turning their lives upsidown. I am Key Sixteen: The Tower. Sudden, dynamic change, but a new perspective as a result. I want people to see the world as it is – I want to turn them from a simple lump of coal into a shining diamond, one at a time. And you gotta crack a few eggs to make an omelet. I wasn't kidding when I said that I oversee all the hurt in Tokyo. I play god, but sometimes I wonder if the ends justify the means..."

I often wondered that myself, but I wasn't about to deny nor affirm his insanity. Instead I take his broken arm and inspect it in its black casing gently, wondering if he would live to see use of this hand again. Without thinking, I kiss his fingers as if I could take away the break or the hurt, and not just in his arm. A shiver runs up his arm and his eyelids lower in a sort of lust over those intense eyes of his.

He pulls his arm back. "I don't want it if it's fake."

"Did I ever say that it was?"

Izaya looks at me, confused and a little in awe. "Stop it, Shizu-chan. I told you, you don't have to pretend anymore."

"Quit it, I don't want to have to say it until I absolutely have to," I tell him, then I lean in and kiss him like I'd been dying to do since we left Chiba.

He melts into me, returning the kiss and wrapping his arms around me, his right hand awkwardly strait out over my shoulder and his legs shifting to make room for me on the bed. The touch of his fingers ghosting over my neck and through my hair is making me hard. The heat is building up slowly inside of me, and I know it's going to roll out of control if I don't catch it, and the experience will be over too soon.

Izaya is trying to undo my shirt with one hand and muttering curses under his breath. I chuckle and do it for him, giving him access to my chest, which he ravages with touches, kisses and bites while his breath hitches in the lust that is building between us both, making this foreplay almost unbearable but elating none the less. He fully intends to finish what we started a few nights ago, drinking his fill this time and rekindling that fiery want inside of me.

I gently remove his shirt, gingerly pulling it over the brace and tracing his pale, thin skin with my fingertips, trying not to let the concern for his bony figure show. I'm afraid I'll break him, so I am gentle. He squirms beneath my touch, sensitive and clearly relishing the moment. Considering I only half know what I'm doing, I was impressed by his wide range of reaction to just a touch. I kiss his nipples and find them already alive. He arches his back and moans, an erogenous zone in my captivity.

Izaya grabs a fistful of pants. "Off," he orders, then proceeds to attempt to undress himself with little success; I've been the one helping him with this day-to-day chore and it will be a bit before his left hand is deft enough to do it for himself. I comply, easing his clothing off first, then rising and slowly removing my own. I feel his eyes sweeping over me, and I wonder what he is thinking. I've never been self-conscious, but never been overly confident about my body image either.

"Wow..." he breathes, then takes his upright cock in his left hand and strokes a bit, unashamed by his wild desire for me. I hesitate, then lean in, taking his erection in my hand instead and inducing pleasure upon him my own way. He moans and twists, thrusting his hips so that hot piece of flesh is grinding against my hand to his liking. Watching him react like this is torture for me – he _does_ notice that I'm just as hard as he is, right?

"Fingers," he huffs, taking my other hand and instructing them to his entrance.

"Ah..." I try to say, gently pushing them in. I'm not sure...

"Like you're fingering a girl," he instructs, picking up on my thought. That I could do. I pushed two inside of him and he groans again, so with my other hand I pump his dick in a maddening rhythm. "Deeper..." he pleads, so I oblige, shoving them in hard and deep. "OH!" he cries, and I hesitate, but then I realize that his cry was not of pain, but of pleasure, so I do it again, raking the inside of him with hooked fingers and he shouts again, louder. "Do it again!" he cries out, digging the nails of his good hand into my shoulder, which only encourages. I do it again. And again.

It's incredible to watch Izaya react in such an uncomposed manner. He breaks out in a sweat and if I don't stop, he could come too soon, so I withdraw my fingers. He makes a sound of disapproval, but I am over top of him. The mechanics shouldn't be too hard to figure out, and fuck, I want him so badly. I want to be inside of him, mark him, make him mine. "Lubricate," he whispers, fumbling to the side of the bed and handing me a bottle of lotion. It hadn't occurred to me, but he was right, so I slather some on and I loom over him, getting ready to penetrate. Izaya's eyes cloud over in lust and he nods in eager permission, so I enter slowly at first, slipping inside of his tight hole for the first time and nearly losing myself in a heady rush.

I secure myself and he clenches, a sound of unexpected ecstasy escaping me when he does. There are no words, only huffs and hisses of delight when I pull back and plunge back into him. He throws his legs over my shoulders and I push even deeper, watching his body tense up and shudder, the feeling forcing its way out his mouth in a swear.

The pleasure on my end is paradise. The way his legs are make the clenching so much more intense, and I can feel it over my cock and into my belly, tingling up and down to my arms and legs while I pick up the pace, eager for friction and the feeling of him around me. I can't get enough of him, I want to die inside of him it's so good. While we increase the speed of the motions to induce a climax I feel like I _am_ dying in the best way possible.

I pound into him, frailty set aside, and Izaya seems grateful for it. His moans and mine combine while I pump his cock in my hand and pump mine within him, faster, harder, deeper. His mouth catches mine and when his good hand reaches around to pull my hair I lose it. I practically shout into his mouth and come, jerking him in a pattern that will result in the inevitable: Izaya comes a few moments later all over my hand and chest as he breaks the kiss and just about howls in orgasm.

I sit back and wipe the sweat from my forehead, using a tissue to clean his tangible pleasure all over me. Izaya tries to sit up, but lays back down, apparently dizzy.

"That... was the best fuck ever," he manages.

"Are you alright?" I ask, suddenly worried that I had overtaxed him.

"Better than I've been since this whole thing started..." he sighs, untangling his legs from me. I wrap my arms around him and lay there, running my thumb lazily over his arm. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Not pretending."

And then he is asleep.

_A/N: Fourteen is three, five and six all added together._


	11. Part Two: Seventh Ghost

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part Two**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Seventh Ghost**

{[Heiwajima Shizuo]}

The next few days are a blur. Izaya sees Shinra three times, and with a sigh and a frown, he says goodbye to his hair, shaved in order for Shinra to use permanent marker on his scalp to indicate where incisions would be made.

The surgery is tomorrow.

I come in from work to Shinuku as I have been for the past week or so and don't see Izaya's shoes at the door. I was going to tell him that I'd gotten the next two weeks off, but now I was worried. Maybe he'd passed out before he'd had a chance to get comfortable?

"Izaya?" I call out, then see a note on the refrigerator. I approach and take it down, reading it carefully.

_Went to make a call._

His Ghosts list is still next to it, with all but two checked off. Publish a novel and …

"Your father..." I mutter. But why would he have to go anywhere for a phone call? I whip out my cell and dial his number, and was surprised to hear "Bust a Move" and the chattering vibration from his desk. Izaya had left his cell phone behind, and he always had it on him.

He'd left it there on purpose.

My mind raced and my stomach clenched. Where could he be? And why would he go alone when he was prone to collapse at random intervals? Who would know...?

I call Shinra immediately.

"Kishitani-sensei," he answers.

"Shinra, where is Izaya?"

"Izaya?" he asks. "He just left here for his last prescreen before tomorrow. He said you were at work and didn't want to bother you. Don't worry, he should be on his way back, if not just about there already."

"He was already here," I explain. "He left me a note."

"What does it say?"

"'Went to make a call.' The hell does that mean? He left his cell phone here, I'm a little worried..."

"Strange..."

"Do you think he went to a payphone or something to call his father anonymously?"

"His father?"

"Yeah, it was at the top of his list of stuff he wants to do before he's dead."

"Shizuo... Izaya's father has been dead for almost thirteen years."

The words sit heavy in my chest. It certainly explained the sensitive conversation about it. "What... what if he does something stupid?" I ask, trying not to let the words catch in my throat.

"This isn't good, Shizuo..."

"Where was he buried?"

The graveyard is small and dingy on a hill overlooking Shinjuku. The city lights are just coming on as the sun sets and the sounds of traffic are distant. I approach the only living figure, crouched next to a gravestone that read 'Orihara Anaru' in miserable contemplation.

"Hey," I say quietly.

"What are you doing here, Shizu-chan?" he asks just over a whisper. His voice is trembling. He'd been crying.

"I was worried."

Izaya doesn't look at me, only sort of half-laughs. "You should be, but I didn't want you to see this."

"Do you need a bit?"

"No, I've said my peace," he sighs, then to my horror he takes a gun out from his parka pocket and loads a single round, then spins the barrel. "Now it's his turn."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I step forward, but he aims at me, anger flashing in his eyes. I stop, scared for the first time in a long time. "Russian roulette? Really! How does this get you closure?"

"Because I'm the one that killed him."

I am very confused, and the look on my face must have been amusing to him as he smirks. It looks strange on his face with no hair, but it is a remnant of his old conniving self. "How …?"

"Car accident."

"Look, you can't blame yourself –"

Izaya laughs, and laughs hard. Harder than he has in a while. "Your presumption that I am in the same class as most humans is flattering, Shizu-chan! No, I killed him quite intentionally."

"Wh... what?"

"Thirteen years ago tomorrow I loosened the CV joint of his car and let him drive off. It came undone in an intersection and he was T-boned on the drivers side. It was a long, drawn out and painful death."

"I … I don't understand."

"You wouldn't. His death was the only one I was directly responsible for. I murdered him, Shizuo. I did it intentionally and maliciously. How does a human do that at twelve?"

"You didn't know any better at that age."

"Oh, I did. I knew very well what I was doing. It was my birthday present to me. My mother tried not to tell me on my birthday, but I could see it in her eyes. I crushed her dream of love, and I crushed her spirit; I forced her to raise myself and twin toddlers by herself. I murdered him in cold blood."

There is a long silence between us. "Does... does your family know?" I asked dumbly.

"No." He rises to his feet and put the gun to his head. "And they never will."

"Stop it!"

"YOU stop it!" he cries, finally turning to face me with bloodshot and crazed eyes. His shoulders were shaking and the gun shook against his skull as a result. "This is my closure! My father will tell me once and for all if he forgives me for this! I thought I would be ecstatic, but when I found out all I felt was numb. No grieving! No happiness! NOTHING! I am in a caste beyond human. Below human! Who does that, Shizuo? Who feels nothing over murder!"

He pulls the trigger.

_Click._

"Put it down, Izaya. See? He forgives you, you're not dead. Not yet. Just hand it over –"

"Oh no, he deserves way more than just one chance at revenge." Izaya spins the barrel again and it is once again aimed at his head. "He gets two more shots, Shizu-chan. Because it was the third time I tried to kill him before I succeeded. Don't ask me why, they are ridiculously stupid reasons, but the bastard deserves a chance to send his son to Hell, as his son did to him!"

He pulls the trigger again.

_Click. _I flinch and so does he._ Spin._ The gun is back to his temple.

"Please," I beg, taking another tentative step forward. He lets me. "Please stop this. I don't know about death or the afterlife or whatever... but what was the point of all this if you weren't going to try and live?" He lets me come even closer so I can put my arms on his trembling shoulders. He is sweaty and ill, and in far from a sane state of mind. I have to choose my words carefully.

"I can only live if this Ghost is dead," he whispers, looking up at me with an intensity that is dark and angry. "If he won't forgive me, then I'd rather be dead."

"Let me help you, Izaya. You can overcome this."

"Pft. If you want to help me so bad then take this next shot. You would die for me, right?"

"Do it."

Izaya looks shocked. "You … you would do that for me?"

"If it gives you closure and the will to live... yes."

He slowly lowers his head to my chest and takes the gun away from his head, still shaking like a leaf. "You fool..." He then shoves me away and aims the gun at my head, pulling the trigger. I stumble backwards and screw up my face, waiting for the explosive sound and the terrible pain of being shot (it's not fun, I'll tell you what).

_Click._

I land hard in the grass and just sit there for a minute while Izaya stands over me, in equal shock. Then we start laughing together. It is a nervous, strained giggle that escalates into a rolling cackle as we crack up.

"Fuck you, dad," he finally says, aiming at the gravestone and pulling the trigger again.

**BANG! **

We jump at the sound as the stone cracks. Then once again, there is a long silence.

I gently take the gun from Izaya and he lets me, still in shock. "Come on, let's go home."

"...Okay."


	12. Part Two: Last Ghost

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part Two **

**Chapter Twelve**

**Last Ghost**

{[Orihara Izaya]}

The IV is in, the dye is circulating my system and I'm already feeling light-headed from the Valium that Shinra's pushed to ease my anxiety. I didn't even ask for it, he just knew that this was my last go at a life at all and it was naturally stressing. I'm not sure how comfortable I should have felt not being in a hospital, but a clean room in Shinra's apartment, although I'm sure it was far better than being in a hospital with my fate in a stranger's hands. Shizuo isn't allowed to smoke like he normally is and he waits anxiously on the couch, having a one-sided conversation aloud with Celty.

I'm convinced that Shinra should have given _him_ the valium.

"Can I talk to him … before … you know..." I ask Shinra quietly, sitting on the cot covered in sterile sheets.

"Sure, I haven't done a scrub down yet, but once its completely sterile here, that's it."

"Okay."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You're really brave for going through with this. He knows that too. This won't be your last conversation with him, alright?"

I nod, trying to take the words to heart but there is still a fear in my gut of not ever waking up again. I drag the IV stand with me out to the doorway and gesture him over, not wanting to go too far feeling so woozy. I've never been under general anesthesia before, so naturally, I'm nervous about that on top of everything else.

Shizuo leans in close, touching my face. "Are you sure?" he asks. "There's still time to back out."

"I've come this far," I tell him, trying to put on a casual face. He can see right through it, I know, but I try anyway. If I show how scared shitless I am, he might get even more irritable and anxious. "This can't take me down."

He smiles a little. "Izaya, I wanted to tell you – "

"Don't say them. Not those words, not now," I order firmly. "This isn't our last time. And the first shouldn't be out of desperation. It cheapens them."

Shizuo nods. "Okay. Then I'll just say … good luck." He must see my fear, because he leans down and kisses me, not even caring about Celty or Shinra seeing. If I were going to die today, I don't care either. I hold onto his lips as long as I can, wondering if I'll ever be able to feel them again anywhere on my body. My beast, my protozoan, my reason, my closure. The balm for any hurt. I swallow that balm as deeply as I can, and it takes Celty waving her hand about as if she were clearing her throat to drag me away from that delicious warmth. He tastes so good … flesh and sweat and nicotine … it almost hurts to pull away.

Celty presents her phone. _**Cute.**_

I'm the one who feels warm in the face as Shizuo rolls his eyes. "Cut us a break, alright? Who cares if it was predictable to everyone but me?"

We share a nervous laugh.

_**Best of luck to you Orihara. I believe in you, you creepy bastard.**_

"Gee thanks. Your words will pull me through to the end, Celty-chan."

_**Mine won't. But his will.**_

She thought he'd said it. But that's okay. He didn't need to say them out loud. I look him in the eye one last time and squeeze his hand with an encouraging smile. He kind of half returns it, but there is no mistaking the terror behind his intense amber eyes. "Um … happy twenty-fifth if you don't wake up before then," he tells me with a weak chuckle.

"How did you know my birthday?" I ask.

"Shinra told me. Sleep well."

"I'll just have dirty dreams of you, Shizu-chan," I tell him, then pinch his butt with a wink, then turn to face Shinra. He has me take my rings and a few body piercings out and hands them to Celty's shadow, which takes them to Shizuo. I'm in pretty much la-la land by the time he puts the mask over my face and asks me to count backwards from 100.

"One-hundred..." I say. The lights were suddenly very, very bright. "Ninety-nine..." When am I supposed to pass out? "Ninety-eight..." Funny, I don't feel very … "Ninety … sev...en..." Speaking was suddenly very hard, as if every muscle in my body was extremely heavy.

"Be strong," I hear Shinra say in my ear before I'm standing in a totally different place. The smell of gasoline, tires and inflatables are the first thing I sense, as olfactory input is the strongest in the wonderful human body. Dim, hot, muggy … _tangible_ heat … and the sound of parts scraping and dropping against concrete. An early spring heat wave in a middle-school summer.

"I'm teeelling."

I peeked out from under the car and sneered. "No one is going to believe a three-year-old, Mairu."

"I'm teeeeeeeeelling!" Mairu skipped off, but I wasn't worried. She made shit up all the time. I wiped the grease from my hands unsuccessfully and rose, looking at my blackened arms as if they were covered in blood.

Because they were, when you get right down to it.

"Happy birthday, Iza-nii!"

"Happy birthday, IzaIza!"

"Mooooom, they're repeating each other again!" I complained. Mairu and Kururi were too young to understand why daddy had to be in the hospital for the past few days. Too naïve to really understand my hatred for the man. Beating on mom, breaking her will every day. Beating on me because I would instigate to draw his attention away from her or my sisters. Spending every dime I ever earned mowing lawns or weeding gardens for neighbors on booze. I didn't care that he was gone. I hoped he never came back.

"Happy birthday, Izaya," mom says quietly, strained and tearful.

I looked her in the eyes and she didn't have to say anything at all to me. I knew he was dead. And I had killed him. This should have been the best birthday ever.

But it was the worst.

Because I felt nothing. I just looked away from her, knowing that she knew I knew. It would kill her if she found out I did it. So I said nothing. She never even really broke the news, just told the twins that daddy wouldn't be coming back and took my intelligence for granted.

Bitch.

"So hers is the one heart you couldn't break, huh?"

"What are you doing here, Shizu-chan?" I sigh, turning around. "This is _my_ nightmare. Don't tell me you're here to rescue me from this too..."

"I'm just confused as to how you can hate someone so much and still love them enough to rely on their forgiveness..." Shizuo says in a not-so-Shizuo thoughtful manner.

"Irony. Funny. Because you hate me and love me at the same time too, right? Visa-versa perhaps? I can see this shit from a mile away. My subconscious can't even outsmart me, how lame is that?"

"You're aching for someone to outsmart you. They couldn't. He couldn't. No one could. No one can, not even me."

"Ah, but you rely on a more intuitive guidance. Like a dog, you smell me out and know everything about me without understanding or processing a single presented fact. You just know. It scares the shit out of me you know. It's like I've been outsmarted by a gorilla or something. I hate you and love you for being able to do that. If words were your strong suit, you'd have figured me out long ago. You can't be in the same class of human as all of them. You're special. Stupid, but special." My shoulders slump. "Why isn't this fun anymore?"

"Because," he tells me, embracing me and running his lips against mine. "This life has ended. And another has begun."

Before I could accuse him of being pathetically cliché, he kisses my forehead and squeezes my hand, which is very heavy and weak. I try to squeeze back but every muscle in my hand is a wet, limp noodle like when you first wake up but a thousand times worse. I'm afraid he can't even feel it, but Shizuo pauses.

"Did you just squeeze my hand?"

I try to talk but there is this god awful pain in my throat. I want to breath deeply but … ugh. A tube is crammed down there. Sooo glad I can feel a plethora of narcotics coursing through me. So I try to nod my head but find it impossible to move. Can I at least wiggle my toe at him? Yes, but will he notice?

"Shinra... I think he's coming around."

"Let me see."

Shinra is leaning over me, shining a light down my face. I squint and try to voice disapproval, but its just so hard when everything about me is made of lead. I want to swear at him: _Get that shit light out of my face so I can punch you, you bastard. This hurts!_

"Good eye, Shizuo. Izaya, you had us worried, but the worst is over. Now that you're awake we can work on getting you back to snuff. It'll be slow, and it won't be pretty, but you've come this far. Don't talk, I'll get the tube out ASAP, but it'll still be hard to speak for a bit."

I want to ask what day it is, so I look about and settle my eyes on a calender. It's May.

Shizuo follows my gaze and chuckles. "Happy birthday, Izaya. Welcome back."


	13. Part Two: Zero Ghosts

**Seven Ghosts**

**Part Two **

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Zero Ghosts**

{[Heiwajima Shizuo]}

Izaya's recovery is slow, but I am relieved when Shinra tells us that he may indeed make a full recovery, which is a huge relief considering the miniscule chance of the normalcy post-surgery. Shinra and I saved some birthday dinner for him for when he could move onto solids and he scribbles on a notepad with his left hand near illegibly that it was his best birthday ever.

The only thing I'm concerned with brain function-wise would be the repeated scribbles of "thank you, thank you, thank you" until the tube has been out for a few days and he can actually rasp out replies. If I thought it was unnerving to see him weak before, this was a strait out mindfuck.

"You're not brain damaged are you?" I tease, though I hide my worry behind it.

"No, of course not," he replies hoarsely. "I get left and right confused sometimes is all."

"Shinra says that's normal after brain surgery. He also says as soon as you can walk without help you can go home."

"It's home now, is it?"

I don't say anything.

"Hey, I think we can keep the bandages off for the most part today," Shinra says, walking in all doctor-like. "Keep gauze over the incision until its pretty much healed, which should be another week or so. Staples out around then too."

"They sting and itch," Izaya complains miserably as Shinra unwraps his head. His hair has grown back almost half and inch, giving him a dark scruffled look, certainly aiding in the disgruntled glares he gives anyone who helps him with day-to-day tasks. Mostly me, but I find them almost endearing.

A week goes by and he can walk across the room slowly, so Shinra sends him home so long as I promise to help him out. And I do. I put up with his snaps and annoyed pushing away when I help him, though I'm pretty sure he knows he'd be bed-bound without me.

It's his turn to be pissed off at me, and I can't deny a little smugness at the payback.

"I'm sorry," he says after we are heading back from his staple removal. His hair was covering the scar nicely, and if he hadn't lost so much weight, no one would have guessed what he'd been through for the past seven months.

"For what?" I ask, ignoring stares from those who knew damn well that we should be trying to kill each other, not me trying to help steady him as he for the most part walks independently down the sidewalk in Shinjuku.

"The uh... the graveyard bit back there. It was a bit over the top. You weren't supposed to see that and it wasn't supposed to be so pathetically dramatic."

"Closure comes in lots of ways," I tell him, opening the door to his condo complex for him. "Forget it."

"I could have killed you."

"Not like you haven't tried before."

"Not for real. You could have died and I'd have nobody, even more so than before. It's kind of lame, but I have a lot of gratitude towards you, you stupid gorilla."

Ah, pride. A barrier between us that has yet to truly come down. But I kind of like our dynamic of affection veiled by insults, sarcastic complaints of cliché shonen-ai endings and wild sex. Though we haven't had much of a chance these past few weeks, we take what we can get (or what he can handle).

It's a strange kind of love, but it's there. I just don't want to say it.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Just be glad you didn't try to kill you dad four times instead of three." Nervous chuckle between us. I think he felt embarrassed over the whole thing. I would have been, lashing out like that. But it's okay. "I forgive you, you know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

And that was that. It was dropped.

Back in his lounge Izaya stretches his limbs in a manner that is not only a relief that he can, but in a way that allows me to admire his lithe figure. Bastard was provoking me again, but in a totally different manner. I would take him up on it later however.

I bring in the mail and smile at a package when I see the return address. "Hey."

"What?"

"Catch."

I throw the bubble envelope at him and he opens it, confused. The look on his face is priceless – I'll remember it forever I think. I can't even describe the surprise, the wonder or the awe across his whole body when he finds a paperback book in his hands that reads "Caste of Humans by Orihara Izaya."

"You didn't..."

"I did."

He flips through it slowly and approaches me, lost in thought. Then he throws his arms over me suddenly, making me stumble backwards. "You idiot! This is awesome!"

"All your Ghosts are put to rest then, right?"

"New ones will rise, but these are dead. Thanks to you. Really. You're a dumbass sometimes, but you're really … I dunno, something. I can't think of anything that doesn't sound really cheesy right now."

I laugh and just run my fingers through through the scruff on his head tenderly. I won't say the words. It's not the right time, and it may never bee. I'm okay with that. He asked me not to cheapen them, so I won't. He can feel it, so it doesn't need to be said. Any Ghosts that show their faces from here on out we can face together, head on.

"So what happens now?" I ask.

"I don't know." Izaya says softly. "And I don't care."

****END****


End file.
